Gang Warfare Erupts Between Thomas Gobbles Gang and Other Turkeys

Well of course somebody is out feeding them.

Turkeys in town are a nuisance. They're mean, dirty and a large road hazard.  I wish the Game & Fish would relocate them.

Boars

Wild board have invaded Rome.

And Barcelona, apparently, where singer Shakira had to take one on for stealing her purse.

Tuesday, September 1, 1914. Martha.

The last known passenger pigeon, Martha, died in the Cincinnati Zoo.

It has been widely suggested that the species could be cloned back into existence, in which case it should be.

The poem "August 1914" by John Masefield was published, in an era when poetry still mattered, and wasn't' vapid.

How still this quiet cornfield is to-night!

By an intenser glow the evening falls,

Bringing, not darkness, but a deeper light;

Among the stooks a partridge covey calls.

The windows glitter on the distant hill;

Beyond the hedge the sheep-bells in the fold

Stumble on sudden music and are still;

The forlorn pinewoods droop above the wold.

An endless quiet valley reaches out

Past the blue hills into the evening sky;

Over the stubble, cawing, goes a rout

Of rooks from harvest, flagging as they fly.

So beautiful it is, I never saw

So great a beauty on these English fields,

Touched by the twilight's coming into awe,

Ripe to the soul and rich with summer's yields.

These homes, this valley spread below me here,

The rooks, the tilted stacks, the beasts in pen,

Have been the heartfelt things, past-speaking dear

To unknown generations of dead men,

Who, century after century, held these farms,

And, looking out to watch the changing sky,

Heard, as we hear, the rumours and alarms

Of war at hand and danger pressing nigh.

And knew, as we know, that the message meant

The breaking off of ties, the loss of friends,

Death, like a miser getting in his rent,

And no new stones laid where the trackway ends.

The harvest not yet won, the empty bin,

The friendly horses taken from the stalls,

The fallow on the hill not yet brought in,

The cracks unplastered in the leaking walls.

Yet heard the news, and went discouraged home,

And brooded by the fire with heavy mind,

With such dumb loving of the Berkshire loam

As breaks the dumb hearts of the English kind,

Then sadly rose and left the well-loved Downs,

And so by ship to sea, and knew no more

The fields of home, the byres, the market towns,

Nor the dear outline of the English shore,

But knew the misery of the soaking trench,

The freezing in the rigging, the despair

In the revolting second of the wrench

When the blind soul is flung upon the air,

And died (uncouthly, most) in foreign lands

For some idea but dimly understood

Of an English city never built by hands

Which love of England prompted and made good.

If there be any life beyond the grave,

It must be near the men and things we love,

Some power of quick suggestion how to save,

Touching the living soul as from above.

An influence from the Earth from those dead hearts

So passionate once, so deep, so truly kind,

That in the living child the spirit starts,

Feeling companioned still, not left behind.

Surely above these fields a spirit broods

A sense of many watchers muttering near

Of the lone Downland with the forlorn woods

Loved to the death, inestimably dear.

A muttering from beyond the veils of Death

From long-dead men, to whom this quiet scene

Came among blinding tears with the last breath,

The dying soldier's vision of his queen.

All the unspoken worship of those lives

Spent in forgotten wars at other calls

Glimmers upon these fields where evening drives

Beauty like breath, so gently darkness falls.

Darkness that makes the meadows holier still,

The elm-trees sadden in the hedge, a sigh

Moves in the beech-clump on the haunted hill,

The rising planets deepen in the sky,

And silence broods like spirit on the brae,

A glimmering moon begins, the moonlight runs

Over the grasses of the ancient way

Rutted this morning by the passing guns.

Saint Petersburg, Russia changed its name to Petrograd due to World War One, in a fit of anti Germaness. Of course, it was later be change to Leningrad, in honor of the murderous  Vladimir Lenin, but then changed back to Saint Petersburg, as it should have been, in 1991.

For some weird reason, of ceruse, Lenin's modly body remains on display in Moscow, when it should be planted in the ground.

British Field Marshal Herbert Kitchener met with General John French, commander of the British Expeditionary Force following the Battle of Le Cateau at a midnight ministers in an off the books meeting that clearly was hostile.

The Affair of Néry occured in which British cavalry and a single gun of British artillery kept in action for two and a half hours until reinforcements arrived.

The Imperial Japanese Navy seaplane carrier Wakamiya arrived off Kiaochow Bay, China, to participate in the Siege of Tsingtao. Presaging events of the future, it was the first time a dedicated ship for aviation had been used in combat.

The  Zayanes called off their siege on the French-held colonial town of Khenifra, Morocco, resulting in a temporary armistice.

Martial law was declared in Butte, Montana in a mining labor dispute that resulted in 500 National Guardsmen being called out.

Last edition:

Sunday, August 30, 1914. The Imperial Russian Army destroyed at Tannenberg.

Labels: 1910s, 1914, Battle of Gnila Lipa, Battle of Tannenberg, Emiliano Zapata, German Army, Imperial Russian Army, Mexican Revolution, New Zealand, Samoa, Venustiano Carranza, World War One